Slint's guitarist Dave Pajo contributed to dispel the notion that instrumental music had to be atmospheric with Aerial M (1997), which delivered languid sub-sub-ambient slo-core in which elements of lounge jazz, Ennio Morricone's soundtracks and Rachel's semi-classical scores were carefully defused. His minimalist and transcendental technique, equally inspired by Pat Metheny (jazz), Robert Fripp (rock) and John Fahey (folk), reached an existential zenith on Papa M's Live From A Shark Cage (1999), a phantasmagoria of cubist de-composition, the instrumental equivalent of Tim Buckley's music.
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Gli Aerial M sono un collettivo di una decina di persone che aveva
gia` pubblicato un paio di singoli, Napoleon/ Safeless (1995) e
In The Thirteenth Letter (1995), piu` lo split
Vol De Nuit (All City, 1996), con il nome M, titolo originale della
collaborazione fra il chitarrista Dave Pajo (Slint,
For Carnation) e il batterista Ray Rizzo.
E` Pajo il padrone dell'operazione.
Dave Pajo aveva iniziato la sua carriera come chitarrista dei Maurice,
un quartetto hardcore di
Luoisville, in Kentucky, che fu secondo soltanto agli Squirrel Bait in
fatto di influenza. Nel 1986 il gruppo si sciolse e Pajo entro` negli Slint.
Pajo si uni` poi ai Palace e infine ai Tortoise.
L'album strumentale Aerial M (Drag City, 1997)
e` la continuazione di quei progetti, ora che Pajo e` affiancato da mezza
famiglia (Fernando, Darlene e Dawn) e da un nugolo di amici fra i quali
spiccano Will Oldham dei Palace Brothers, Dan Koretzky, Laurence Bell.
Ma il progetto e` di Pajo, un chitarrista lezioso e introverso come pochi,
che ha in mente una musica strumentale pigra e solenne, da scodellare
senza fretta, assaporando l'effetto di ogni accordo; una musica
sub-sub-ambientale che rasenta il "slo-core", il piu` sonnolento acid-rock
e le partiture semi-classiche dei Rachel's;
l'equivalente strumentale del canto di Tim Buckley.
Le melodie sibilline di Dazed And Awake
sono fratturate in maniera quasi minimalista, organizzate meccanicamente
attorno al petulare indifferente di Pajo.
La sperimentazione di Pajo in questa direzione "cubista" si spinge
fino al tenue pulsare senza struttura narrativa di Wedding Song No 2,
in cui la melodia sembra incespicare in un difetto di registrazione.
Pajo e` capace di raggiungere livelli maniacali di cerebralita`, proprio
laddove abbraccia il credo e la prassi del "lo-fi" piu` umile.
Le scale matematiche di AASS fanno venire in mente persino l'"Arte della
Fuga" di Bach.
Ma al tempo stesso Pajo sa costruire atmosfere raffinate, come quando accarezza
il jazz da cocktail lounge dei film noir e le colonne sonore semiotiche di
Morricone in Skrag Theme.
Alla fine, anzi, il tenero finale di Always Farewell si scopre radicato
nelle tradizioni del Kentucky, nelle favole country e nelle ballate da bivacco,
filtrate attraverso la sensibilita` trascendente di un John Fahey, e qui la
visione personale di questo pittore del suono acquista una qualita` metafisica.
Nonostante la quantita` impressionante di collaboratori, tutte le romanze
senza parole di questo disco sono estremamente spartane.
Post Global Music (Drag City, 1998)
e` piu` che un semplice album di remix e annovera quattro versioni di
Wedding Song No 3.
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Pajo outdoes himself on the follow up, again instrumental, but this time
credited to "Papa M":
Live From A Shark Cage (Drag City, 1999).
His minimalist and trascendental technique, inspired in equal parts by
Pat Metheny (jazz), Robert Fripp (rock) and John Fahey (folk), has achieved
a spectacular level of concentration.
Pajo has found the magic balance among
technique, emotion and structure.
Roadrunner is a country watercolor similar to Leo Kottke's, but the
melodious tinkling of the guitar (reminiscent of the Christmas carols),
the deaf counterpoint of a jews-harp, the sparse and casual drumming of the
percussions, the carillon of the vibes, share nothing of the elated joy
of the rural world, albeit the dark introversion of the metropolis.
Even the accelerated blues of Plastic Energy Man, one more time
strummed by the guitar (almost in a calypso mode) and accompanied by very
subdued
percussions, goes back and forth between graceful imagination and sick
psyche.
The most "song" of all tracks on this album is Up North Kids,
a catchy and quick melody which seems to leave behind, for a few minutes,
the existential worries.
From that (more or less) fairy tale atmosphere the album instead plunges in
the cryptic trance of
Pink Holler, a velvety carpet of crystal guitar and banjo tones which
does not run after a melody albeit simply grows thicker and thicker.
And the mood sinks in the long raga of Drunken Spree, which repeats
a simple melodic pattern on the sitar interwining it with intensely
spiritual guitar chords.
Over the fifteen minutes of I Am Not Lonely With Cricket Pajo
drops completely in the minimalistic technique of repeating an elementary
pattern with minimum and subtle variations, and in the eastern technique of
achieving ecstasis through hypnotic stasis and intense meditation.
The music slowly mutates and fades away in a tinkling of metallic tones.
The closing track, Arundel, fuses the two sides of Pajo, the
melodic sketch drawer and the spiritual guru, in an indolent and broken
theme, which sounds almost like a requiem and which disappears in a puff
of sombre reverbs.
This album crowns the most taciturn guitarist in the history of rock music
as one of the most original. His music is patient, does not hark for
the spectacular and abhors speed. His music is built up from a hammering
technique of the guitar which could not possibly be more ordinary.
Nonetheless, the result is an extraordinary mixture of
cubist, baroque and eastern accents.
David Pajo is hard to recognize on the EP
Papa M Sings (Rock Action, 2001), a collection of
lo-fi folk and blues songs a` la
Will Oldham
(I of Mine, London Homesick Blues).
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Pajo si supera sul disco successivo, accreditato ai Papa M:
Live From A Shark Cage (Drag City, 1999).
La sua tecnica minimalista e trascendentale, che si ispira in egual misura
a Pat Metheny (jazz), Robert Fripp (rock) e John Fahey (folk), ha raggiunto
un livello elevatissimo di concentrazione. Pajo ha trovato un equilibrio magico
fra tecnica, emozione e struttura.
Roadrunner e` un acquerello country come quelli di Leo Kottke, ma il
tintinnio melodioso della chitarra (che ricorda le "carol" natalizie),
il contrappunto sordo di uno scacciapensieri, il tamburellare delle
percussioni e il carillon di vibrafono non hanno nulla della gioia spensierata
delle campagne, semmai la cupa introversione della metropoli.
Anche il blues accelerato di Plastic Energy Man, ancora una volta
strimpellato dalla chitarra (in maniera quasi calypso) e accompagnato da
percussioni molto dimesse, fa la spola fra fantasia leggiadrea e psiche malata.
Piu` "canzone" di qualsiasi altro brano in questo disco e` Up North Kids,
una melodia orecchiabile e cadenzata che per un secondo sembra dimenticare
tutti i tormenti esistenziali.
Da quell'atmosfera (piu` o meno) fiabesca si piomba invece nella trance
sibillina di
Pink Holler, un vellutato tappeto di tocchi cristallini di chitarre e
banjo che questa volta non corre dietro a una melodia ma si limita a diventare
sempre piu` fitto.
E si sprofonda nel lungo raga di Drunken Spree, che ripete
un semplice pattern melodico al sitar intrecciandolo con accordi intensamente
spirituali di chitarra.
Lungo i quindici minuti di I Am Not Lonely With Cricket Pajo
si cala completamente nella tecnica minimalista di ripetere all'infinito un
pattern elementare con minime e subdole variazioni e nella tecnica orientale di
ottenere l'estasi tramite la stasi ipnotica e la meditazione intensa.
La musica muta lentamente e si dilegua in un tintinnio di toni metallici.
Il pezzo di chiusura, Arundel, fonde queste due facce di Pajo, il
vignettista melodico e il guru spirituale, in un tema lento e affranto,
che sembra quasi un requiem che sfoca in una voluta di tetri riverberi.
Il chitarrista piu` taciturno della storia del rock si consacra come uno dei
piu` geniali. La sua e` una musica paziente, che non cerca l'effetto e aborrisce
la velocita`. La sua e` una musica costruita a partire da una tecnica
martellante alla chitarra che non potrebbe essere piu` elementare.
Nell'arco della sua carriera Pajo ha inseguito e inventato uno stile di
composizione che e` un misto di pittura cubista dell'"arte della fuga" di Bach.
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(Clicka qua per la versione Italiana)
After releasing two milestone recordings of instrumental music,
Dave Pajo (the genius behind Papa M) turned to singing with an EP that was
(at best) a failed experiment.
The album Whatever, Mortal (Drag City, 2001) shows that he has vastly
improved his singing and that he has struck the right balance between his
instrumental skills (he plays everything, helped out only by
Will Oldham and Tara Jane O'Neil) and the song format.
On the one hand, Pajo nods to the classics:
Over Jordan, the tale of a modern Ulysses returning home, and
the solemn ode of Roses In The Snow could easily be two of
Leonard Cohen's whispered elegies (the former framed by
a melancholy melody that John Denver would have loved).
The mellow, tender, dreaming tone of early Donovan permeates
Sorrow Reigns.
And Glad You're Here With Me is a little reminiscent of
Bob Dylan's Blowing In The Wind.
On the other hand, Pajo is a master of musical detail and disguise, using
minimal arrangements to expand his tunes in all directions: the
eerie reverbs of the guitar enhance Beloved Woman
(worthy of Luna),
the piano pens the medieval lullaby of The Lass Of Roch Royal,
and a small chamber orchestra performs
the album's glorious, quasi-anthemic finale Northwest Passage.
While the songs constitute the essense of the album, Pajo still delight us
with a few instrumental tracks. Focusing on his subliminal strumming,
that borrows from both avantgarde techniques and
country fingerpicking styles, the surreal, rocking Krusty and the
organ-drenched Tamu hint at metaphysical issues that even Pajo's erudite
lyrics could not adequately express with words.
But the best display of Pajo's technical subtleties comes with the
psychedelic raga Sabotage, the longest track on the album and
the least centered on a melody.
Here one can appreciate how
Pajo has truly found his "voice" at multiple levels.
This album is where post-rock and alt-country meet and form something new,
that is both tradition and experiment, confession and vision.
The EP Songs of Mac Performed By Papa M (september 2001 - Western Vinyl, 2002) contains
two lengthy "songs" that rank among his best.
The anthology
Hole of Burning Alms (Drag City, 2004) collects the singles credited
to M and some rarities from 1995-2000.
Pajo's first single credited to M was
the wavering post-rock instrumental Napoleon (Drag City, 1995),
with Ray Rizzo on drums, two guitars and a bass,
backed with the slo-core instrumental Safeless.
M's hypnotic Vol De Nuit, a duet between Pajo and Rizzo, was contained in
the single In The Thirteenth Letter (All City, 1996), and
had a lazy country feel.
M Is (Drag City) contained Wedding Song No 3, which
unleashes a dense, martial crescendo, and
Mountains Have Ears, a Brian Eno-esque vignette with
an electronic beat. By this time, M had become a solo Pajo project.
October (Drag City)
returned to convoluted post-rock textures with Vivea.
Travels in Constants (Temporary Residence) was another experiment with
the techno beat.
Pajo (Drag City, 2005) continues Pajo's evolution towards the traditional
singer-songwriter profession.
High Lonesome Moan, Manson Twins, Baby Please Come Home
increasingly focus on the singer's psyche rather than on the singer's aesthetic
vision. Alas, there was only one Pajo, but there are thousands of
singer-songwriters and of Nick Drake imitators.
1968 (Drag City, 2006) was another linear, streamlined, conventional batch of songs. As a songwriter, Pajo stands out only when he blends seamlessly dark stories and celestial atmospheres (Cyclone Eye, Who's That Knocking, Wrong Turn).
Dave Pajo's
Scream With Me (Black Tent Press, 2009) was a collection of
acoustic covers of Misfits songs.
In 2015 Pajo attempted suicide and then he almost died in a motorcycle accident.
He resurrected the Papa M moniker for
the 27-minute mini-album
Highway Songs (2016)
and
A Broke Moon Rises (2018), which contains
only five songs.
They both sound like collections of (somewhat cryptic) experiments in different directions.
The latter contains the longer ones, both acoustic guitar solos,
the lively eight-minute folk dance of A Lighthouse Reverie
and the 13-minute, dejected, anemic Spiegel im Spiegel.
They are
post-rock's version of John Fahey's
transcendental fantasias.
Papa M's music has become not so much "dark", but menacing and inscrutable
despite being fragile.
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